


Prompt No. 86: Lightning

by Anythingtoasted



Series: 100Fics [27]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anythingtoasted/pseuds/Anythingtoasted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: No.86: Lightning<br/>Characters: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black<br/>Pairing: Remus/Sirius<br/>Era:  post-hogwarts (wartime)</p><p>“Together?”</p><p>“I think so.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt No. 86: Lightning

“Together?”

“I think so.”

Sirius grinned at him toothily and then whirled on one foot, robes splaying behind him as in that moment Remus did the same, both of them synchronised, wands pointed in the direction of the masked faces behind them. Sirius shouted curses and taunts so fast that they blended together, swearing and laughing, moving so quickly, wand still pointed, that the alleyway was reduced to flurries of smoke and flashing light in seconds. Remus was measured, at least more than his friend, but grinned despite himself as his curses struck, again and again, the black-cloaked chests of the men and women they were firing at, their shoulders jerking back as they tried desperately to protect themselves quicker than the two could hit them.

Remus sidestepped a  _crucio_ for the seventh time in his life and a giddy rush flew through him. He’d never been one for danger, always seen himself as the worrier if any of the marauders were – but there, ironically in the most danger he’d ever come up against (bar himself), he started having  _fun_. He could barely believe it.

Sirius shouted his name and Remus looked at him quickly, casting shield charms as he did. Through the smoke Sirius jerked his head towards the mouth of the alley, signalling the way back to the bike. Nodding quickly Remus looked away from him and with a few flicks of his wand made the alley close up, bricks crawling across the middle of the path, trapping their pursuers on the other side of it. Sirius, at the end of the alley, raised his eyebrows as he caught his breath. He whistled appreciatively.

“That was good.”

Remus didn’t dignify the compliment with a response; magic was flowing through his veins; he felt like every hair is standing on end, like the air was crackling with energy and he was a part of it, and if he’d spoken in that moment it would just have been noise. He jogged over to Sirius instead, wand clutched white-knuckled in his hand, still ready to turn back if any of the death eaters made it through. Thankfully, though, he made it to the mouth of the alley, around the corner and up to the bike without trouble. He took his helmet from Sirius, who had pulled it from his robes, un-shrunk it and passed it over, and a thought struck him, his brain still buzzing.

“Can I drive?” he said, looking at Sirius and fully expecting a no. Sirius pretended to evaluate him, looking him up and down, the same smirk in his eyes that was on his face during the fight.

“You know what? Why not. Consider it your prize for that bit of wandwork back there.”

“You make it sound like I’ve never impressed you before.” He said, and Sirius smiled widely, surprised.

“Well…” he shrugged, and Remus elbowed him, hard, as he put the helmet over his head and threw himself onto the bike.

“Ready?” he said once Sirius settled behind him, and Sirius nodded against his shoulder, arms around his waist.

“Ready.” He heard the murmur in his ear, softer than it needed to be, and Sirius’ fingers laced together over his stomach.

“Okay, then.” And he kicked it into gear like he’d seen Sirius do a thousand times before, like he’d always wanted, a far cry from his usual cautionary driving.

They roared off into the street, pulling in and out of traffic like a bullet fired from a gun, and Remus couldn’t help it – his joy overtook him, white hot adrenaline flowing through him, up to his mouth where it was released, where it exploded uncontrollably from between his lips and he  _howled,_ long and loud, behind the helmet. And he heard, and felt, Sirius laughing madly at him against his shoulder as they sped home.

Xxx

They were somewhere in Derbyshire, Remus didn’t really know exactly where, and it was the middle of the night when they finally pulled up against the side of the B&B that Dumbledore had sent them to. Sirius’ hair was growing long, hadn’t been cut since they left school, and he shook his head when he removed the helmet and stepped off the bike after Remus. “Merlin. Doesn’t half make me look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, all this riding around with  _that_ on.” He said in disgust, indicating the helmet. Remus chucked him the keys and laughed to himself when Sirius fumbled and almost didn’t catch them.

“You’d look worse with flies squashed against your face.”

Sirius shrugged. “Touche.” He straightened his leather jacket, the one that matched James’, and shoved the keys to the bike in his pocket, cursing the bike with an anti-theft charm over his shoulder as an extra precaution. “You want to get a drink?”

“Maybe.” Remus led the way into the half-pub half-hotel, jumping slightly when a bell on top of the door rang to announce their arrival. It smelt like wood and beer inside, and the ceilings were so low that Remus found himself stooping. There was a desk in the entrance, old-fashioned, covered in papers, with pigeon-holes behind it like something out of  _Fawlty Towers_. The little woman at the desk looked thrilled to see them, even though it was well past eleven. He hadn’t expected anyone to be awake but the pub seemed to be thriving still, warmth and firelight and laughter emanating from the room next to them. Remus walked up to her.

“We’ve got a reservation. Fenwick?”

She smiled, her soft, round face dimpling. “Lovely. Did you boys travel long?”

Sirius sidled up behind him and leaned on the desk, charm on full-blast. “Not too long, no. Looks like it was worth it. This place is beautiful.”

She smiled wider, going red, and Remus kicked him gently as the woman looked at her ledger, finding the name. “Fenwick, you said? Lovely!” she signed the book and then passed it over to Remus, along with a pen. She tilted her head at them. “I don’t mean to be rude, but there isn’t much of a family resemblance.”

Remus grinned, eyes on the paper as he signed, ‘ _Rufus Fenwick’_ next to the reservation and Sirius coughed.

“Oh, well, he’s adopted, you see, is dearest Rufus. Found him in the bulrushes, as it were. Poor thing. His mother didn’t want him.” Sirius’ tone took a melodramatic turn and the woman lapped it up, nodding, looking positively heartbroken when she turned her eyes on Remus.

“You poor boy! And you,” she turned back to Sirius,  “treating him as your brother! It’s really touching to see something like that. Don’t see much if it, these days.” She shook her head sorrowfully and touched Remus’ hand. “You look tired, love. Maybe you should get to bed, hey?” Brow furrowed, she stroked his hand again and then said, with a note of hope in her voice, “And maybe me and your brother could get a drink?”

Upstairs in their room Sirius couldn’t stop laughing. He collapsed onto one of the beds, almost unable to breathe. Remus found it significantly less funny.

“I can’t believe she tried to make a play. She’s old enough to be your mother!”

Sirius leaned his head up from the bed to look at him, putting his bag down in the corner. “Well, who can blame her?”

“I don’t blame her, I blame  _you_ for flirting with every living thing we come across. Put it away for once, would you?” He was laughing gently though, Sirius’ mirth infectious. He shuffled into the bathroom and moments later Sirius followed.

“I didn’t have it out.” He said, smirking at Remus in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Remus made a noise of disgust.

“You’re a dick.” He muttered around his toothbrush, and Sirius just grinned in response.

Remus looked up at himself in the mirror, at the new scar that ran from the edge of his eye to his jaw. Not self-inflicted, this time – he’d been caught on the receiving end of a nasty curse, and thankfully it had only grazed him. Sirius caught him looking at it and paused.

“It’s not that bad.” He said, and Remus looked at him in the mirror.

“I know. I wasn’t looking.”

“You  _were_ , though.”

“Shush, Pads. It’s alright.” Sirius frowned, and shifted; turned against the sink so they were facing eachother, very, very close. Remus, affronted, didn’t move back but pulled a face. “You’re in my space.” He said quietly, emphatically, and Sirius laughed, a tremble in his voice. He reached a hand up and touched the scar with two fingers.

“Just don’t hate it, alright? You got it being a hero, Moons. It’s a medal.” He grinned, but there was a tremor at the edges of it, just like there was in his words. He pulled his hand away and let it drop awkwardly at his side, then stood for a moment, breathing shallowly between them, and for an insane moment Remus thought,  _this is it._  But Sirius breathed out heavily, instead. “Yeah. Just – yeah. That’s all.” He touched Remus’ shoulder briefly, then shuffled his way out of the bathroom. “’Night.”

Remus stood looking at himself in the mirror for a moment before he followed suit. He smiled.

Xxx

“How many?” Sirius’ breath was ragged next to him, both of them with their backs against the rough stone wall in pitch blackness. The air was cold; all Remus could feel as an anchor was the warm press of Sirius’ arm against his own.

“Thirty, maybe forty. Could be more.” He said quickly, under his breath. “We can’t –“ He felt Sirius’ arm move.

“I know.” Sirius finished for him, and Remus couldn’t make out anything in the darkness; couldn’t even light his wand, for fear of alerting the creatures in the cave with them. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” Remus whispered back, heart throwing itself repeatedly against his ribs. “Albus said-“

“Yeah, I know, and he’s mad if he thinks I’m going to try reasoning with a fucking cave full of vampires. I was expecting five, at  _most._ ”

“They might not attack a half-breed. You know – dirty blood. Maybe if I-“ Sirius’ hand groped for him against the wall and found his wrist.

“Don’t you dare. You’re  _not_  leaving me, Moons.” There was humor but it was covered by the way he squeezed Remus’ arm. “We need a plan.”

“Well  _I_  don’t know!” he said quietly, a touch of hysteria in his voice. Sirius turned to him; he heard the scrape of his jacket against the stone.

“Come on, Moons, you know I’m not a plan man, I-“ he went suddenly silent. The light down the end of the cave, around the corner, was moving; spreading, pale blue, along the cave walls towards them. “Fuck.” Sirius said eloquently, far too loud, and let go of Remus’ wrist. A searching, gnarled voice called from the source of the light.

“I  _smell you.”_ It said, and a sussurus of similar voices rose around it. Remus drew breath sharply.

“Run.” he drew his wand and, intending to let Sirius do just that, shot fire from the end of it down the cave. He watched it light the walls as it flew towards the coven of vampires they were  _supposed_ to be making contact with. Everything on this fool’s errand had gone wrong; their contact in the coven was nowhere to be found, and now that they’d discovered what Remus could only assume was a  _nest_ , they’d met endless hostility (not to mention  _hunger_ ). He turned to run after Sirius, only to collide with him in the darkness. Behind them, the creatures screeched and hissed, the fire from Remus’ spell close enough to natural light to burn their skin (a lucky guess). “I said _run,_  you twat!”

He found Sirius’ forearm in the darkness and dragged him back the way they came, stumbling over rocks and roots with his feet and almost falling into a stream that ran through the damp cave. Sirius pulled his arm out of his grasp and took his hand, instead, keeping them together as they ran. Daylight was long gone; they reached the exit and night was spread out over the hills, stars in the sky brighter than Remus had ever seen them – but there was no time to gawp.

He dragged Sirius by his hand down the steep hill, more tumbling than running, sure he could hear the coven behind them. He shot fire over his shoulder, just in case. Sirius was trying to do the same but his proficiency in Charms had never been quite as good, and instead he was only managing sparks in his haste and panic, igniting the grass just behind them, the flames quickly fizzling out. They reached the halfway point down the hill and Remus’ lungs were burning; he pulled them behind one of the many huge rocks that stuck starkly out from the hillside. Both of them fell onto the grass, then crouched quickly against the rock, shaking but ready. If Remus’ heart had been beating hard before, at this point it was trying to escape.

“Oh, my god.” He breathed, an understatement. Sirius choked a mad laugh.

“Do you – do you think they’ll come after us?”

“I don’t know.”

They sat crouched in the dark, cold air beside eachother, silence enveloping everything, waiting for some sign that they were still in danger. Minutes passed.

 Sirius looked at him, face flushed, cheek pressed against the rock and his hair in a mess. “What do you think?”

Something rose in Remus; not words. He pulled his hands from the rock, lunged over, took Sirius’ jaw in one hand and kissed him.

Sirius rolled with it like it had been part of their training; rose to meet him, a hand fisting in the cloth of Remus’ coat, pulling them closer as he opened his mouth against Remus’ and huffed against his cheek, nose crushed between them. Remus’ hand found the base of his neck, the other still against his jaw; he felt it move as they kissed, Sirius’ breath hitching in-between them before their mouths found eachother over and over again.

He pulled back suddenly when he heard movement above them.

“Shit. Is that them?” he whispered, Sirius’ grey eyes wide in front of his own, and they were silent, pressed together against the rock. The noise came again, from further up the hillside; low and rumbling, it echoed above their heads; a long, drawn out, ‘ _Moo’._

They eyed eachother for a long moment before Sirius cracked and started to laugh, hand still clutching the front of Remus’ coat, keeping them against eachother as their chests vibrated with silent hysteria and they slid down the face of the rock together, Remus tangled between his legs as tears gathered in his vision. Sirius leaned forward, shaking with what was now incredibly relieved giggling, and pressed his lips to Remus’ with a dizzying, desperate intake of breath.

“Your timing is  _excellent._ ” He said sarcastically, and Remus, still laughing, punched him in the arm only gently before kissing him again.

Xxx

James screamed his name against the rain, his vision grey. He turned but the water pounding itself against his face blurred his vision, blackened the edges of everything, almost stopped him from seeing James, crouched next to the wall, hands trembling as they pulled back the robes at Sirius’ chest.

Remus turned back in the demolished ruins of the Order headquarters’ kitchen; the burned-out carcass of the stove sat heavily in his peripheral vision, one of its legs missing; the floor was strewn with bits of table-legs and plates, the gigantic hole in the side of the building letting in rain where, before, it had let in the enemy. He stepped on a fork, felt it stab into the underside of his boot as he ran to the other side of the room to skid over and kneel beside the two of them, his wand clutched in his shaking fist. The skin from Sirius’ collarbone to the round swell of his shoulder was split open like an overripe fruit, exposing blood and bone and pink flesh beneath it. The edges were singed, they stank of flesh, and James looked (rightfully) queasy as his hand gripped at Remus’ arm, slipping on the wet fabric. Sirius was barely awake, blinking blearily, his blood diluted by water and running in pink rivulets down his chest, pooling at his navel, where his body folded as he slumped against the remains of the wall. James’ words were gibberish; give the man a wand, a battle, and he was indispensible; hurt his best friend and he was a wreck. Remus wasn’t sure he was faring much better. He reached for the wound with his non-wand hand, fingers hovering above it.

It wasn’t fun anymore. Oh, god, it wasn’t.  He realised shakily that it hadn’t been for a while, now.

“I-“ he started, and then reality suddenly wrapped itself around him. He cast a charm above them to protect them from the rain. “Okay.” He breathed slowly, lungs shuddering, raised his wand and desperately tried to remember one of the healing spells he knew that might help – just something to help the pain, even, would be a godsend - but his mind was blank and white pressure, heat, was pressing against the backs of his eyes. He breathed again and his vision cleared, but only slightly; yet another slow breath and, desperately relieved, he remembered the spell. He moved his wrist, wand pointed at the wound, which now bled thickly; yellow fat and wine-black sinew were visible in the gap in Sirius’ flesh and his head was tilted back, teeth gritted, eyes half-closed and rolling back in his head.

Remus muttered the spell as fast as he could, over and over until it started to work, the wound closing, but Sirius winced and writhed under it, moving his shoulder even though Remus pressed a hand to his chest to try to still him; he ripped the healing skin apart over and over again, jerking automatically against the pain, a low whine coming from him as Remus tried desperately not to hurt him, saying the spell louder and louder and more frantically as Sirius continued to tear himself to pieces. James, who had been still and white until that moment shouted ‘ _stupefy!’_ wildly from beside him, and Sirius went instantly slack in his arms.

The wound healed itself neatly then, flesh knitting together until all that remained was a thin white line from collar to shoulder. With Sirius in his arms, stupefied but healed, Remus collapsed against the floor, the ruins of the Headquarters seeming much realler as rain pounded loudly against his shield charm and James sighed shakily and thanked him, the words dulled and blurry on his ears.

Sirius’ still  face was in his lap, his eyes closed, the blood that still stained his skin endlessly dark, endlessly terrible in the grey light. 

xxx

When Sirius finally came home from Mungo’s Remus pulled him inside the flat, pressed a palm to either side of his face, thumbs against his cheekbones, and kissed him soundly, shaking, face red even as Sirius muttered “You knew I was coming back.” He pressed the line of his body against Sirius’, allowing for no break between them, and made them one solid block of colour as he stood for a moment, eyes closed.

When they went to bed Sirius undressed in front of him purposefully. He had no scars, save the one on his shoulder; no bruises, either. He was perfect; the tattoo on the curve of his shoulderblade, the solitary star, was black and stark as ever against his skin and Remus watched him, realising how much he’d missed that shape in the three weeks they’d been apart.

 Sirius was entirely naked when he crawled into bed and Remus knew it was to say _look;_  to say  _nothing has changed,_ but the fact was much easier to show than it was to believe, when last time they saw eachother Sirius was bleeding and unconscious under his hands. He closed his eyes when Sirius reached for him under the covers; he stilled the hand with his own, and pushed it back.

Sirius, angry, jerked back as if burned and curled in on himself on the other side of the bed, as Remus stared at the ceiling, that dark day playing over and over and over in his head, as it had done every night since.

Xxx

They lived in stilted silence for the next few days; Sirius offended and prickly, snapping at every percieved slight as Remus tried to reconcile the image of Sirius’ lifeless body with the other one, which was very much alive and spitting acid at the very idea that he might, somehow, be mortal after all. They slept on opposite sides of the bed and but for that fleeting kiss when he came home there was no contact, not even accidental; Remus started to have dreams where he actually  _tried_ to touch Sirius and still found that he couldn’t.

It took a full moon alone to bring him back.

After a fortnight of no contact, of silent fighting, he woke after transforming to Sirius clutching his palm at his bedside, forehead pressed against the back of his hand, and he was whispering;  _Moons. Oh, god, Moons. I understand. I’m so sorry._

Remus smiled indulgently for the first time since he came home from the hospital, against the pillow, and curled his fingers around Sirius’ shaking hands.

Xxx

It changed, and with it, the war, too, became a different beast. It wasn’t fun; in fact it was barely bearable when Pete was always gone and James was busy with Lily and the baby and half the Order was dead or converted or disappeared or broken. The lights in Sirius’ life became Harry and Remus, two pinpricks of light against a backdrop of dark ‘what if’s. 

 He and Remus started to make love, slowly, telling eachother; drawing it out, so careful and cloying that each time felt like a farewell; that kiss, their first, on the hillside felt like it took place in another life. Where once they pulled eachother against doorways laughing and argued and fought and fucked there is a tentativeness, a mad, irrational fear that one might somehow break the other.

Remus found himself out on his own all the time, returning to a silent flat alone, and when Sirius was home after a trip he was often in bed before Remus got back, so all there was to be done was to crawl into bed beside him, bury his face against the back of his neck and try to make them one person, night after night.

 He thought maybe that was why they’d become so slow in bed, so careful; it wasn’t laziness or comfort, not ‘getting used’ to one another; they were trying to blend. He thought maybe somewhere in his mind he believed that the longer they were physically together the more likely it was that they might just become one being, inseparable, unable to experience the loss that would be one without the other.

He thought sometimes it might be nice not to need Sirius like he did, because it got more difficult with each day.

xxx

The bike tore across the countryside so fast Remus could almost believe it cut lines in the landscape, that it blazed a trail of fire behind them from the grey block of flats across london, across england, a bright path that led out of the busy streets, out of darkness and danger that lived around them and onto the thin roads flanked by green that they drove on then, Remus in the front, Sirius gripping him for dear life, whispering  _‘Shit, Moons, be careful!’_ in his ear as he pushed the bike to go faster and faster the further out from the city they got. Wind tore at him, plucked at his clothes with icy fingers, slipped around the helmet trying to push his head back. Sirius, behind him on the bike, had his hands clenched around his waist as usual, peering over his shoulder, terrified that Remus would crash at this speed, even though Sirius drove more recklessly, and faster, when he was the one on the front.

They leant out going around corners, practised, the throbbing beast of the bike a familiar weight between them, and when Remus pulled over it was almost as if he’d planned it because Sirius was ready; he took his helmet off as soon as they stopped and sat there, watching Remus as he got off the bike and, with no caution, no carefulness, wound his hands in Sirius’ hair (ridiculously long, ragged, and he’d told him to cut it but to no avail) and pulled at him, kissed him hungrily, desperately as Sirius gripped his hips tightly in return, dug his hands in painfully, turning on the bike to better open his mouth against Remus’, to taste him like he hadn’t been doing it at every available moment for the last year. Remus found that for once he wasn’t touching the skin of Sirius’ back and wondering where each mysterious scar came from; he stood inbetween Sirius’ legs and laughed into his mouth when Sirius’ hands slid into his trousers and around the curve of his arse, pulling him closer.

With Sirius sitting on the bike they were the same height, for once, and Sirius actually bowed his head to drag his mouth across Remus’ neck, leaving fevered heat behind him as he mouthed his way down Remus’ collar, hands leaving his arse to undo his jacket before Remus stopped him, arched against him, told him silently not to bother. He slid a hand down the front of Sirius’ trousers, making Sirius draw in breath and jerk his head up to kiss him and the two of them moved against eachother, Sirius straining to fuck into his hand whilst trying to find purchase on Remus at the same time, his sweating, shaking palms inside his shirt, on his hips, fingernails digging in, moaning breathlessly  _I love you. Moons, I-_  until he couldn’t take it anymore and he shuddered a last gasp into Remus’ hand, collapsing against his shoulder. Remus, without even being touched did the same, a feat he’d never thought possible until Sirius gasped his name like a prayer against his shoulder, trembling, his hands gripping hard at his hips still until they were both laughing again, at their own ridiculousness, at each other, out of relief. Remus drew his hands out of Sirius’ trousers, aware suddenly of how silly it all seemed, and held his neck in his sticky, sweaty palms, and kissed his forehead. 

“Oh, Pads.” He said quietly, though there was no one for miles who could possibly hear them. “We’re a right pair, aren’t we?” and he thought later that somehow he’d known, all along, it was their last hurrah.


End file.
